Humor in the sorrow

Understandably, I have had lots of emotions in the last two days. Moments of tears, moments of fear, moments of anxiety (which Ativan is the perfect cure) and laughter. Each time we meet a new nurse, I introduce myself and Brett, and tell her we are all about being positive, with some smart ass sass. Everyone has been wonderful here.

I have this large IV poll next to my bed, and sometimes have three lines going into my central line. Earlier tonight I told Brett, "I was thinking about getting a pole (i.e. stripper pole) in our bedroom, but this is not what I had in mind!" Brett has been wonderful, and he has not left my side. He told me it is worse for him when he's alone because he can't handle his emotions. My parents arrived this afternoon, and Brett will stay here through Sunday, and Mom will start staying with me on Sunday night. That is the plan for now.

I had the absolute best ambulance ride up the 405 to UCLA around 3pm on Thanksgiving. My transport guys were wonderful; a really tall black guy who played basketball at Kansas was my driver, and a really large guy sat next to me in the back cracking jokes as we people watched in traffic. The two had never transported anyone to UCLA, and with the hospital being new, we got lost on the way. My doctor at Hoag said I had to be in my bed at UCLA by 5pm, or I would not get to start my chemo. We left at 3:30 and hit traffic, but these two knights were determined to get me in bed by 5:00.

We hit bumper to bumper traffic at LAX, and they were told not to use the sirens. As we inched close to the Wilshire exit, my driver said, "We have 15 minutes, I'm going Code 3" - next thing I knew, sirens were blaring and we were running lights and driving down the wrong side of Wilshire. Because these guys didn't know where the "new" hospital ER was, they turned on Le Conte to drive past the old one. At this point we realized we were lost. We drove up Hilgard, past the Tri Delta house and sorority row, then took a small road down the center of campus. Still not sign of the ER. And of course, it being Thanksgiving, the campus was deserted. When we did find a lone man walking down the road, the drive tooted the sirens and yelled, "Where's the ER?" Startled and possibly in need of new underwear, the guy pointed up the street and off we went.

When they got me to my floor, they took me to my new room. Wouldn't you know it, the floor had just been waxed, so they had to find a new room. These guys were adamant about getting me in bed by 5pm. I overheard the nurse say, "Room 11 is open", so I looked at my guys and said, "11 is my lucky number!" My driver shouted, "This woman needs room 11 right now!" and they swiftly carried me to my new home. When I transferred myself onto the bed, the three of us looked at the clock - 4:59 p.m.

High fives and fist bumps went around the room, and my paramedic knights bid me good luck and farewell. So, my entrance to UCLA had flare no doubt. And we were laughing all the way.

I miss the kids, especially Jenelle. They have been staying with Brett's parents. Tonight, I spoke to Jenelle, and Grandma said she gave me the biggest smile. Brett's parents are bringing them tomorrow for a brief visit. I am looking forward to it. Jack misses me, but knows I am sick. He will be OK.